Sept. 16, 2012

ImageThis photo shows my clothes drying in the branches at my camp. I wash the clothes in public bathrooms in town and then hang them to dry when I return to camp at the end of the afternoon.

Labels, categories, definitions are require some kind of acquiescence to the form. They demand obedience! If I am labeled (actually self-labeled) an Aspie, then I must conform to that label, that definition. If I am put into the disabled category, then I’m supposed to fit in there and not stray.

I have always liked my labels. Like words, they help give form to my life. Life seems so big and confusing that the labels seemed to help me. Now, I’m wondering about that.

Nature doesn’t stay in the required formats. It flows, yet it flows with some kind of vast “order’ or form. This form is not pre-determined or governed by any rules. No limitations or boundaries are imposed from outside (in the big picture, in the long run). The trees at my camp look random, like pick-up sticks dropped there. But really they are part of a vast network of trees and roots and plants and animals and wind and rain and sun and just LIFE. It exists without limit in time and space. This is a force we don’t really understand.

The wheels of justice turn in their own time, not in my time. Barry Lopez writes about indigenous people’s observations of life which go back for millenia. They have been observing nature and slowly gathering their observations; there is no end to this process of observation, as there is no end to nature.

Sometimes I feel waves of energy in the woods. I don’t know what this is or if I am creating it myself (imagining a magical source). At dusk, the time when the light changes and colors disappear, I see things moving around in the woods. This is part of traditional wisdom, and I am sure this is true. Deep nature is truly another world; people who don’t spend long periods out in nature don’t know this. They are the ones who ridicule such thoughts.


Transients from colder climates are dribbling into town. The temps here are still close to 100 F. some days and always at least in the 80s. The nights are practically balmy and divine.

We Couchsurfers ( who surf people’s couches are like Muses: we drift into town, into houses, and we fill the sedentary people there with wild thoughts of travel and the possibilities that are open to them if they will only look and see them.Image

This pic is a few years old. It’s me and my grandson, Sam.

These pics came out too big! I’m still fiddling with this blog, and I’m getting occasional help from my computer teacher, Laureli (who isn’t here right now to help me with this).

I’ll just publish this!


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